This is my first fic ever so go easy on me! Reviews are always welcome!

Disclaimer: Gorillaz is not mine and I don't own it in any way.

2D gazed at the ceiling of his underwater prison, his mind gone numb from the couple… no… several pills he's taken. His heavily lidded eyes were void of the lively spirit they once held. Empty.

A swish of blue outside his window caught his eye, and his anxiety bubbled in his stomach. That giant, enormous, monstrous creature.

"A wha—no. Don't say it. Don't think about. Just float on," he thought.

Turn forever hand in hand…

He flinched. The singer's body twitched tightly. His muscles felt like they were grinding together as if they were trying to make his frail being smaller.

"Relax… relax… it'll pass."

2D grimaced, trying to force his body to relax and release the hold paralyzing his muscles. He subconsciously gripped the sheets of his bed tightly and kept his eyes tight shut. Since his capture by his… former friend Murdoc, his pills haven't been working as well as they used to. Was he becoming resistant? God forbid.

His blood slowly surged back to normal and the hold on his body faded. 2D gave an exasperated sigh and brought a shaky, clammy hand to his head, gliding his hand through his greasy blue strands.

"How long have I been down here? A month? A year?"

His other hand joined his first and he dug his palms into his eye sockets, massaging them slowly and letting out a small grunt.

The bluenette was about to fall into a restless slumber when he heard the ceiling creak above him. It was the sound of heavy, monotonous, steady footsteps.

"Her awready?"

2D let out a dramatic groan. He was in an exceptionally bad mood today. His pills are slowly but surely failing him, he's hungry and he's sick of that robot and her master.

Her master. Murdoc. The person he once knew. His bandmate. His aggressor. The reason his eyes are black with blood. The reason Paula left him. 2D never saw himself as the kind of person to hate another, but he sure was close to it with Murdoc. The slimy, green bastard.

"Why am I beneath him? What sets us apart? My hair? My eyes?"

2D reached a hand towards his eye. Gently, he pressed the pads of his fingertips to his lower eyelid.

"Does he hate me for what he's done?"

The sound of metal scraping above was unwelcome to his ears in his private moment of a drug-induced haze. The lift to his room ground against the metallic shaft encasing the drone. Enemy. Cyborg.

2D's fingernails poked his eyelid as his hand curled and tensed in annoyance. The lift door opened, revealing its soulless passenger.

The singer dragged his fingernails down his face, enjoying the sting that pricked his skin. He kept his eyes locked on the ceiling as it spoke.

"Master requires your voice for recording," cyborg Noodle said.

2D carefully folded his hands together on his stomach. He inhaled slowly and closed his eyes. His brain may have been swimming in hydrocodone, but his actions surprised him still.

"No," 2D breathed, eyes closed, a frown etched on his face. As soon as the word left his mouth, pride (or maybe moxie) swelled deep in his chest.

Cyborg shifted. Her face twitched. She walked over to the frontman before her, stepped onto his bed and stepped one foot over his lanky body. With a couple clanks and clunks, she revealed a shiny, long, high-powered gun and aimed right between 2D's eyes.

He smiled. "If you shoot me, your master's going to be rather upset knowing you killed the only voice he needs, eh?"

Cyborg blinked and with a few more clinks, she sheathed her weapon. As she hopped down from the bed towards the elevator, a sly smirk spread across her face. The ever-perceptive, high 2D just stared blankly back at her. His black eyes swallowed the mere image of his best friend. But this one had no soul.

Cyborg swifty rode the lift back up above 2D's prison. Her feet clopped on the plastic floor, seeking out her satanic master. As usual, he was in a cluttered study shirtless, drinking and frivolously scribbling down music pouring out of his tattered soul. Cyborg stiffened as she clapped her boots together and saluted Murdoc. He kept his eyes down, focused on his masterpiece.

"What?" he grumbled.

"Master, the prisoner refuses to sing today."

Murdoc's eye briefly twitched as he flung his pencil across the room.

"That's fucking lovely."

He kicked his chair to the floor, stumbled over stacks of paper to his handle of vodka, took an inhuman swig and smashed the bottle to the floor. He stalked passed Cyborg, the heels of his boots tapping the plastic with each step.

Down below, 2D stiffened. Those footsteps were not Cyborg's. They lacked rhythm, stumbling around. 2D's pride-filled chest popped like a balloon. The rusted wheels in his head began turning as it dawned on him who was coming to pay him a visit.

The lift shrieked as it stopped on the singer's floor. 2D sat up in his bed, head cocked at the elevator like an intrigued puppy. Murdoc stepped out, hands clasped behind his back, staring at the singer down his crooked nose. His voice was eerily calm.

"Cyborg told me you didn't feel up to singing today, huh mate?"

2D's heart began to pound against his shallow chest. Something's not right. But then again, what was?

"Tha…" 2D cleared his throat, "That's right."

"Why?" Murdoc asked. It was more of a statement than a question. The green man took a step closer to his visibly frightened frontman.

2D's eyes began to dart around the room, not that Murdoc could tell where he was looking, though. 2D felt a rush on his body, as if a calm wind flew by. His pills were starting to hit him hard. He felt weightless and began to turn his face away from Murdoc in a stupor.

But Murdoc was on him in an instant. "Look at me!" he bellowed and grabbed 2D's chin, jerking it forward. The smell of fresh vodka filled his nose. It was the first time in a long time he saw Murdoc's face so close. A vein pulsed in his neck. His mismatched eyes were glazed and shot red. Sets of dark bags fell below his eyes. His skin was pale green, unlike his usual swampy glow. He seethed.

"Answer me," he growled and tightened his grip on 2D's chin. 2D swallowed whatever his dry mouth could muster.

"Yew… yew don't treat me right, Mu'doc. Not that you ever reawly have, but this is just wrong. We were friends, Mu'doc. I was your friend! Not just a tool for fame and money." The singer felt heat radiate off his sweating face. His arms trembled below him. Murdoc's eyes just wouldn't release the hold on the shaking man in front of him.

"Is tha' right? Murdoc jerked his hand back and folded his arms across his chest. "I was never your friend, two dents. I only pretended to care about you lot to keep us together," Murdoc reached out to 2D's shirt and balled it up in his fists, pulling the poor singer close. "I only wanted your talents for my records. End of story." Murdoc pushed 2D back and took a few steps away, placing his hands on his hips in thought.

This isn't Murdoc. No matter how bad things got between them, they both knew damn well they had each other. As bandmates. As brothers. 2D's mouth hung opened, stunned of all words. Murdoc was lying and 2D, even high as a kite, knew it.

"Come now, dullard," Murdoc cooed. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be." Murdoc was sure of himself. Keep crushing the lad's spirit and this pathetic rebellion will end. 2D looked at the floor. He swing his long legs over the bed, stood up and met Murdoc eye-to-eye. Adrenaline pumped.

"Do not call me that, you self-righteous prick," 2D said with conviction.

Murdoc's eyes widened for a split second. His greasy, raven hair fell over his eyes as he bared his animalistic canines.

"I don't know what the fuck got into you, but if it doesn't end now, I will have Noodle shoot your bloody—"

"THAT IS NOT NOODLE," 2D roared as he took hold of Murdoc's arms, squeezing them tightly. "That machine you made is not my Noodle, you shithead. That is a demon in 'er body. My Noodle is still alive, waiting for me to save 'er!" The singer's voice cracked at the end. Rage swam in his glistening eyes. His knees trembled and his fingertips dug into Murdoc's skin.

Murdoc's eyes were wide and his body stiff. Seeing as the blue-haired man's tantrum was over, it was time to knock him back to his place. How dare he insult him! How dare he touch him! Murdoc snarled as he shoved 2D on his bed. 2D fell back and balanced himself on his forearms, legs dropping to the floor.

"You stupid, moronic, bloody eye-sore! Noodle is dead. Get it through that empty hole you call a brain! She's dead, faceache, DEAD!"

2D sprang from the bed. With a battlecry, he wrapped his hands around Murdoc's neck and pushed all of his weight ontop of Murdoc. The two fell to the ground in a huff. Murdoc squirmed underneath, clawing at any of 2D's exposed skin. The singer merely tightened his grip.

"You listen to me, you sod!" 2D commanded. This unnatural surge of dominance scared the singer, but the more he embraced it, the more powerful he felt. Murdoc's scratching turned into fussing. He tightened his clawed hands around 2D's wrists, trying to free himself from his singer's grasp.

"She is out there," 2D breathed, his voice dripping with desperation. "She's out there looking for me. Looking for you! She's our little Noodle, Murdoc. Don't you remember, you thick bastard? Don't you remember her smile? Her laugh?"

Murdoc's head swam. His Noodle. His precious Noodle. He always had a soft spot for the little Japanese girl, though his front never showed it. He would never admit it. He loved the little girl who arrived in that FedEx box all those years ago. She brought him down to Earth. She kept his icy heart thawed. He couldn't explain how much he missed her and he felt his world explode when hearing of her death. Cyborg Noodle was the only answer in his twisted mind. Cyborg or not, he had his Noodle here with him now. He didn't need the other.

The Satanist's eyes glistened. 2D's grip softened.

"I miss 'er, Mu'doc. It's okay to miss her, too," he voice was low and quiet. He sat back on Murdoc's lap, feeling his adrenaline starting to drain.

Murdoc lay stunned. The sparkle in his eye quickly extinguished into cold, hard rage. With a roar, Murdoc bucked his hips and shoved 2D off, swooping over the singer with such fervor, 2D thought for sure he'd burst into flames. He pinned the skinny man below him without much effort, and dug his knees into 2D's arms, binding him to the ground.

"She. Is. Dead!" Murdoc screamed and punched 2D across the face as hard as the green man could muster. 2D's head snapped to the side. Murdoc continued. Again and again, Murdoc assaulted the singer beneath him, anger beginning to seep from his body with every punch he made.

His grief. His sorrow. His anguish. It all disappeared into a puddle of red. He doesn't need Noodle. He doesn't need anyone.

With one final blow to 2D's head, Murdoc gasped for air and licked his chapped lips. His hand was still balled in a fist, but soaked in blood. Murdoc's wild eyes slid down to his victim.

2D's teeth were clenched, his eyes screwed tight and his face covered in his own blood. He let out a pained groan. His arms felt like they were about to break. His face was on fire. He slowly opened his eyes and landed his gaze on the crazed bassist. 2D's expression softened. He felt his head swim. The dark was coming.

"I'm sorry, Muds," 2D whispered. "I'm so sorry," 2D sighed. His eyes closed and his body went limp regressing into a peaceful slumber. His face looked calm and angelic, contrasting from the blood that smeared his face. Strands of his stunning blue hair were dyed red.

Murdoc huffed. His wide eyes were chained to 2D's battered face. His green chest heaved, trying to ease the tightness in his lungs. Murdoc eased himself off the vocalist and plopped himself down against the bed. He sighed out the rest of his frustration and ran his bloodstained fingers through his shaggy hair.

"How did we get here?"

Murdoc glanced at 2D's nightstand through his neglected bangs. Half-drunk whiskey. Ripped up paper. A razor blade. A couple of empty orange bottled with pills scattered around. He turned his head back to 2D. His long, lanky body was stretched out, his limp arms out wide. Murdoc felt his stomach turn.

Sure, he always beat on 2D, but never enough to knock him out or stain the floor red. Murdoc growled to himself.

"What's the point? Plastic Beach has no soul. No life. It is as desolate as the island it's named after. Without your voice, D, there's no life. No color. So meaningless. There's no point."

Murdoc pulled his gaze to the imposter Noodle, standing by the lift, witnessing her master's fall from grace. She stood lifeless and pin-straight.

"You," Murdoc breathed as he stood up. He sauntered over and gripped Cyborg's neck, shoving her against the wall. "You're the cause of all this. You will never be as good as Noodle. You will never be human. You will never be her!"

Murdoc dug his claws into her fake skin, pulling and severing wires and gears. He tossed the material to the ground as Cyborg sputtered and twitched. She shot out sparks into Murdoc's face. He remained still as he watched his own creation short out and shut down.

"M-master," Cyborg stuttered. "I-I…I am… N-Noodle."

She collapsed to the floor in a heap of smoke. Murdoc tensed his hands into fists. The urge to kick the crap out of the artificial mess at his feet drained when tears began to prick his eyes. He turned to his broken singer who was still besides the rhythmic breathing in his chest. Murdoc snatched the whiskey off the nightstand and took a long swig.

Tears cascaded.

"I'm so sorry, Stuart."